


To Sail a Golden Sea

by estelraca



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Age of Sail, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Marius Fails At Politics, Multi, Werewolf Bahorel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:46:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21827683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estelraca/pseuds/estelraca
Summary: When Marius is kicked out of his grandfather's house for daring to have a political opinion, he goes to see his best friend Courfeyrac.  If he had been paying better attention to what was going on around him, perhaps he would have noticed that the voyage Courfeyrac invites him on is a treasonous mission to find the only artifact capable of killing the immortal king who controls their homeland.
Relationships: Courfeyrac/Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12
Collections: Les Mis Holiday Exchange (2019)





	To Sail a Golden Sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elenchus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elenchus/gifts).



> I loved your prompts! I took you rather literally in your "throw every trope in" suggestion and hope that you like the outcome. Have a very happy returning of the sun!

_To Sail a Golden Sea_

"Courfeyrac." All of Marius' carefully constructed reasons for being here evaporate from his mind as he studies the sleep-tousled face of his best friend. "I have come to sleep with you."

Courfeyrac opens his mouth, closes it, rubs at his eyes, and then says, "Oh dear."

That wasn't the response that Marius was hoping for. To be fair, it wasn't the opening sentence he had been intending, either, but still. He had expected... what? For Courfeyrac to be _happy_ to be awoken in the middle of the night? For Courfeyrac to immediately understand everything and somehow make it all _better_? Marius isn't a child, running to a parent in the night. He should have set his expectations accordingly.

"I am sorry to bother you." Marius inclines his head, feeling the flush in his cheeks, the warmth creeping up his neck. "I'll leave you to your rest."

"Oh, no you won't. Not after an opening line like that." Courfeyrac's hand lashes out, grabbing Marius' wrist in a firm embrace. "Come in, you, and explain exactly what has happened and why you're here."

Marius allows himself to be tugged into the foyer of Courfeyrac's rented rooms. He supposes it's a good thing that Courfeyrac is still living like a student—Marius wouldn't have dared to approach Courfeyrac's family estate. It would have been too many layers, too many _people_ between him and the assistance that he hopes Courfeyrac can provide.

The landlord sticks his head out of another room, his sleep cap still in place. Before he can say anything Courfeyrac is apologizing and sending the man back to bed. Somehow he manages to make the man laugh a bit as he does, a feat that Marius knows he would have been incapable of.

When that bit of business is done, Courfeyrac leads Marius to a chair in the communal room, settles him firmly into it, and builds the fire up a bit before throwing himself into a chair across from Marius. Somehow Courfeyrac manages to look comfortable and graceful in a most ungainly position, rather like the cat that jumps up into his lap a moment later. Courfeyrac strokes the beast idly as he smiles across at Marius. "Well, out with it. How did you come to be on my doorstep this late at night?"

"I, ah..." Marius swallows, his face heating again as he recalls the time _before_ his ignominious departure onto dark streets. "I've been cast out of the house. By my grandfather."

Courfeyrac sits up straighter. " _You?_ Whatever for?"

"For having a political opinion that was not a direct mirror of my grandfather's." Marius scowls.

"Wait." Courfeyrac holds up a hand. " _You_ had a political opinion?"

"All I suggested was that perhaps General Bona was correct in asserting that there are areas of rule that the Sun King might do well to look into!" Marius tries to keep his voice to a low hiss, but he's certain he doesn't succeed. "You know that I discovered my father had been living in the city? That he had been watching me?"

"I did not, because you didn't _tell_ me! All these delightful revelations, not shared with your best friend." Courfeyrac looks wounded.

Marius thinks back over the last few weeks. "Yes... well.. I _meant_ to tell you, but matters have been busy and tense, what with my translation work and attempting to finish my exams. I thought..." But he hadn't, had he? He had _thought_ about what Courfeyrac might say, what advice his friend might give, but he hadn't taken the time to come and actually _ask_ him.

"Start at the beginning. Or, rather, at this major revelation." Courfeyrac rises from his seat, disturbing the cat, and moves so that he can lay a hand on Marius' shoulder.

"My father didn't abandon me." Marius swallows, the revelation still feeling like a raw wound in his chest. "My grandfather disagreed with him politically, and swore that he would disinherit me if he saw my father attempting to influence me. For many years my father sailed, but for the last seven... he was _here_. He would watch me in church, try to watch me during festival days... he was _here_ , and I never knew it!"

Fumbling in his jacket pocket, Marius pulls forth the journal that he had rescued from his father's rented rooms after a kindly archivist at the temple told him about his father. He presses it into Courfeyrac's hands.

Courfeyrac turns the book so that it's angled towards the fire, scanning bits of it. "He was quite the diarist, wasn't he?"

"At least a small bit most days. This is just one of several books, all left to me on his death." Marius finds his hands on his elbows, his arms hugging himself in a useless gesture. "I've been reading them."

"He sailed with the General's fleet." Courfeyrac's face is impossible to read, but Marius thinks it is surprise rather than horror tinging his friend's voice.

"Until close to the end. He didn't actually participate in the rebellion—he didn't think it would work, and he was right about that—but he..." Marius holds out his hand to reclaim the book. Politics has always been something that happened to _other_ people, something _others_ had to think about. His grandfather, his grandfather's family, everyone has been a loyal supporter of the Sun King on his unending throne. Marius never considered that there could be anything _else_. "Reading these... he doesn't seem mad, or... or anything other than observant and kind and conscientious. He thought things needed to change because they weren't _right_ , and I... I think perhaps he was right about some things. I told my grandfather such, and... well... that's why I'm currently sitting in your common room asking to sleep with you."

"Oh, my dearest friend." Courfeyrac leans forward, and before Marius knows exactly what's happening he's being enveloped in a tight, warm hug.

Marius hadn't expected it, but he finds himself sinking into the embrace anyway. It feels so _good_. There are few people who will hold him like this—his aunt would occasionally hug him, and Theodule will sling an arm around just about anyone if he thinks it will make him look dashing or show him off in some regard, but Marius can think of no one else who just _touches_ him like Courfeyrac does.

"I'm sorry." Courfeyrac's voice is a soft whisper.

And for the first time since Archivist Mabeuf told him that there was something he should know, something he should _see_ , Marius cries. He hadn't expected to, but the sobs rise up in his throat, tear themselves from his mouth. His teeth chatter together, a fast, rapid click. The room isn't truly cold, not with the spring and the fire, but Marius _feels_ cold. "I never kn-knew him. I shouldn't—it shouldn't—"

"We're allowed to grieve for what should have been, just as much as we're allowed to grieve for what has been, just as much as we're allowed to hope for something better in the future." Courfeyrac pulls back, reaching up to stroke hair away from Marius' forehead. "Come to bed. Let's get a good night's sleep, and we'll talk in the morning."

"If you'll just let me stay with you for a bit..." Marius wipes at his face, following Courfeyrac down the hall and up the stairs, into a cozy little room with a mattress that will fit the two of them if they don't mind being cozy. "I've almost finished my exams, and the translation work you helped me set up is going wonderfully. In a few weeks, I should be stable enough to find rooms of my own, and then—"

"I won't _be_ here for a few weeks." Courfeyrac ruffles his own hair, his mouth turning down in a rueful little pout. "I was going to try to find you, to let you know... Enjolras is arranging a voyage, and I'm going to be going with him."

"Enjolras...?" Marius repeats the name. "You've spoken of him before. Your pretty friend, right? The blond one?"

Courfeyrac nods. "He and Combeferre have been planning it for a while, and now is the right time. I can see about arranging for you to stay in my room in my absence, if other arrangements haven't been made... or!" Courfeyrac perks up, looking excited. "You're a polyglot, yes?"

"You know I am." Marius sheds his coat and hat, finding that they look... not shabby, but out of fashion next to Courfeyrac's. "You helped me get my work, remember? To—"

"To thwart your grandfather for being a tight-fisted geezer with no sense of romance, fun, adventure, or morality. Yes, I remember. Forgive me, it's just late." Courfeyrac is grinning at his remembrance of his assessment. "Your gift with languages, though—it's perfect. You could accompany us! Combeferre is also fluent in many languages, but you can't have too many people capable of communication, and it's really quite the appropriate undertaking for a man of your station—a good way to earn your keep, out on the sea."

"Go to sea." Marius repeats the words, feeling slow and foolish. "With you."

"Yes!" Courfeyrac seems more enamored of the idea by the moment. "It will be splendid fun. You'll get a chance to meet Enjolras properly, and Combeferre—Combeferre can be a bit intense, but I promise he's a great deal of fun if you point him in the right direction or at the right people."

"I don't know..." The thought of leaving the city where he has spent his whole life, of traveling out into the world beyond the Kingdom—is it something he really wants to do?

Is _staying_ something he really wants to do, when he will be acutely aware of both the absence of his father's gaze and the presence of his grandfather's disapproving one?

The thought of his grandfather losing his mind when he hears that Marius _left_ is what decides him. Or... decides him as much as he figures he can afford to be decided, this late at night. "I'll come."

"Wonderful!" Courfeyrac hugs him again. "Do you want to be against the wall or away from the wall?"

Marius just blinks at his friend.

Courfeyrac nudges him down onto the bed. "For sleeping."

"Oh." Marius feels his cheeks flush again. "Ah... against the wall."

"Good. We'll talk about it all more in the morning." Courfeyrac deftly begins undressing, leaving Marius to do the same.

It doesn't even take five minutes for them both to be undressed and covered by the blankets. Courfeyrac blows out the lantern that had been giving them some light, leaving the room almost totally dark. "Sleep well, my friend. We'll have a grand time together tomorrow."

With Courfeyrac's weight a warm presence at his back, Marius begins to hope it might be true.

XXX

"This is _not_ a grand time!" Marius whirls to face Courfeyrac, his voice sounding strange in the cramped quarters that he and Courfeyrac are sharing with Enjolras and Combeferre aboard the ship. "This is a _horrible_ time! I should never have agreed to this!"

Courfeyrac holds up his hands in a placating gesture. "Marius, love, just take a moment and calm down. It hasn't been that bad, has it?"

"I was _bitten_ by a _werewolf_!" Marius holds up his arm, where the sleeve of his jacket is hopelessly slashed. The flesh beneath _had_ been a mess, but at least the werewolf seems to have been honest when he said that Marius would heal quickly and cleanly.

"I know, but—"

" _I could become a werewolf!_ "

"No, you couldn't!" The werewolf's voice comes from behind Marius. Which shouldn't be possible, because there is nothing but a bulkhead and an _ocean_ out there. "I swear you won't! There's a lot more to passing it on than just a little nibble."

Turning around, Marius sees the pointed ears, black beard, and bright grin of Bahorel, the werewolf who bit him at their last stop. The beast—man— _person_ is apparently hanging off the top of the deck, because he is upside down, his gaze focused on the water that is occasionally lapping up to slap at him.

"Ah..." Courfeyrac steps forward, directing his words towards the small glass window that Marius is fairly certain is called a porthole. "This is a private conversation, I'm afraid."

"Oh, is it?" The werewolf glances in the porthole, then turns his attention once more to the water below him. "Sorry. You were being so loud, I thought you meant to involve the whole pack." The werewolf scratches at one ear. "Crew? That's the right word, right? Crew?"

Marius hears a little strangled sound escape his throat. "Y-yes. That's the right word." He is _very_ glad the werewolf speaks Heliodos, so that Marius doesn't have to continually translate from Lunessan for the rest of the crew.

"Good." Bahorel still sounds far too cheerful for a being that is _dangling over an oceanic abyss_. "But, like I said—there's no danger of you becoming a werewolf. Lots more drugs and chanting and almost dying to achieve that. All the drooling did was make sure you'd heal, since it seemed rude to start my journey with you lot by eating the arm off one of you. Sorry about that, by the way. I assumed you were more Heliodan bastards come to take what wasn't yours."

"It's quite all right." Courfeyrac speaks in a loud, clear, firm voice. "I'm just glad Enjolras was able to convince you of your error before things progressed too far."

Marius has never heard the word _convince_ used to describe someone kicking an individual in the head so hard that they fly back a good six feet, but in the circumstances he can't fault either Enjolras' actions or Courfeyrac's way of referring to them.

"Anyway, real sorry." Bahorel looks in the porthole again, grinning with what seems to be far too many bright white teeth. "But no hard feelings, I hope. This quest is going to need a nicely functional pack, after all."

"No hard feelings." Marius echoes the words, feeling lost and adrift despite being the one with his feet on the ground. Or at least with his feet on the decking, which continues to rock beneath his feet.

With another quick smile Bahorel disappears.

Courfeyrac shakes his head. "The Lunessa truly are a people of their own."

"He bit me." Marius finds himself attempting to sit in one of the hammocks that have been their beds for the last week's voyage and failing utterly. "I've never had someone bite me before."

"Probably never had someone apologize to you before, either." Courfeyrac smiles at him, capturing the hammock and helping Marius ease himself down into it. "And I am sorry you've been hurt. It wasn't what I intended. I just thought you'd provide a bit of translation work for us, that's all. Perhaps make a bit of money here and there, and learn the options you have."

"I know." Marius relaxes, his eyes closing as Courfeyrac's fingers begin massaging down through his hair and to his scalp. "I just—what are we even _doing_? You said transporting cargo, and looking for people, but..." Marius trails off. "Bahorel's people thought we were there to rob them."

Courfeyrac says nothing, his hands merely continuing their work.

"Because other Heliodans have been." Marius opens his eyes, looking up at Courfeyrac. "Because it's a common occurrence?"

Courfeyrac shrugs. "Common enough. The Kingdom didn't become rich by playing fair with the neighbors."

"It's what my father meant, in his diaries. About the corruption."

A sigh is Courfeyrac's response, and his head dips down, his forehead pressing to Marius'. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. The General wasn't exactly known for being kind to the peoples he made contact with."

"I know. Combeferre made it perfectly clear how much he despises what General Bona did." Marius can't bother to summon up the anger and hurt betrayal that Combeferre's vicious, fierce, fast rebuttal of Marius' stumbling praise of General Bona had elicited. "I just thought... I don't know."

"What are we doing, really?" Marius reaches up to bury his own hand in Courfeyrac's hair in return. "Courfeyrac, _why_ are you and Enjolras and Combeferre on this boat?"

"Do you really want to know?" Courfeyrac shifts, so they are looking into each other's eyes. "It's not something you can _unknow_ , and it's not something... it's not safe."

Marius hesitates, considering the options before him. Then he gives his head a little shake. "I'm with you on this. Whatever it is, I won't ever tell anyone."

For one long moment he things Courfeyrac will still balk at saying anything.

Then Courfeyrac's mouth is right by Marius' ear. "We're looking for the Eclipsing Band. To do what anyone would do with it."

Marius blinks, the words making sense as individual sounds but not in the order they were said. "You're... you think..."

"To kill the king, if need be. We shall see." Courfeyrac pulls back slightly, studying Marius' face. "Do you wish I hadn't told you?"

It takes him a few seconds to consider the question, and then Marius gives his head a slow shake. "No. If that's what you're doing..." Marius trails off. "This is treasonous talk, you know. Anywhere in the Kingdom it could get you killed."

"I know." Courfeyrac's lips brush against Marius' cheek. "But we're not _in_ the Kingdom now, and as you said... sometimes all it takes is looking around to see that perhaps things need to change."

Marius doesn't say anything, brow furrowing as he considers all that Courfeyrac has told him and all that he has seen. Courfeyrac is still stroking his hair, a comforting, familiar feeling, and Marius falls asleep with the sound of Courfeyrac humming softly in his ear and a million unfamiliar, half-formed thoughts sliding through his mind like the strange stars that glitter over the top of the ship that has become their home.

XXX

Marius wakes in the dead of night.

Courfeyrac is sleeping in his own hammock, one arm having escaped to dangle over the edge. Marius gently replaces the offending limb, tucking Courfeyrac's blanket around him more tightly.

Then he heads up towards the deck, still turning over the events of the last week in his mind.

His friends are rebels.

It probably should have been obvious in retrospect. He doesn't think Courfeyrac was ever trying to _hide_ it from him, not really. And yet... Marius hadn't noticed.

There is a great deal Marius hasn't noticed in his life.

The deck of the ship is quiet. The werewolf is curled up in a patch of moonlight, his fur shining a strange black-silver. He snuffles a bit when Marius passes, but doesn't otherwise move, his eyes staying closed.

There is a woman at the wheel. Marius was introduced to her when they boarded the ship—Cosette, he thinks her name was. Or perhaps Euphrasie? Or Ursula?

Marius _really_ needs to learn to pay more attention to what is happening around him.

He supposes he can start by going up to the woman and asking her name. It takes him a few minutes of pacing the deck to gather up the courage to do so, but he eventually does.

The woman is gorgeous.

It's the first thing Marius notices when he approaches her. Especially in the moonlight, with her hair shining an impossible to define color, with her lips curling into a fond, welcoming smile—she is beautiful, and Marius has no idea what to say to her.

"Hello." The woman breaks the silence for him as soon as it stretches into awkwardness. "Do you need something?"

"I just... ah..." Marius swallows. "I wasn't sleeping well, after our... adventures ashore... and I thought... perhaps I could talk with you?"

"Of course." The woman flashes him another smile. "I'm Cosette. You are... Marius, right?"

Marius nods. "Marius Pontmercy. Translator. Almost a lawyer, once I earn the funds. Apparently now maritime adventurer."

"Quite the eclectic set of skills there." Cosette seems impressed. "Did you go to the university, then?"

"Yes. For the last three years." Marius finds himself at a loss for where the conversation should go. "Did... you have any schooling?"

"We lived in one of the Solar Temples for a while, when I was younger. I liked the other children, and the lessons were interesting." Cosette glances towards the stairs that lead down into the belly of the ship. "We couldn't stay. Since then, it's been travel. I've seen a lot of the world, at least."

"The owner of the ship..." Marius tries to remember what he can of the small crew that Enjolras and Courfeyrac had hired. "He's your father?"

Cosette nods. "My father owns the ship. We employ Eponine and Gavroche. For a little ship like this, it works out all right."

"Your father is impressively strong." The words come out almost absent-mindedly as Marius remembers some of the feats he's seen the man do. "Ah—I mean—"

Cosette laughs. "You mean exactly what you said. Don't apologize so much. I find your candor charming."

"I'm not usually _quite_ so candid. It's just... been a very long ten days." Marius smiles ruefully. "Have you ever had your life turned upside down, just completely, without any warning?"

"Yes. Many times." Cosette reaches out to touch his hand. "Would you like to tell me about it?"

Marius finds that he does, and he passes the next two hours in easy, companionable conversation with Cosette. He tells her about his father, and the argument with his grandfather; she tells him about living in the temple, and about running away with her father and claiming the boat that her uncle Fauchelevant had arranged to take them away.

By the time he's ready to retire, a faint tinge of pink is just touching the horizon.

Cosette leans towards him when he says he's going to leave and presses a kiss to the opposite cheek from the one Courfeyrac had kissed. "Rest well, Marius. Everyone deserves a good night's sleep after adventures like we've had."

"You, too." Summoning his courage, Marius leans down and presses a kiss to Cosette's cheek in turn.

Since Cosette is smiling as he goes below, he imagines she didn't mind the presumption very much.

XXX

"We're going to die." Marius speaks loudly, to be heard above the gathering storm. His voice is curiously flat, though, robbed of emotion by the madness in front of them.

Sirens are not supposed to be real. If they _are_ real, they are supposed to stay at sea, not swim into a harbor. And if they are going to do the first two, they are supposed to be beautiful, not—not—

Marius has no idea what the creatures before them are, but they are definitely _not_ beautiful. Beautiful things aren't supposed to have so many tentacles, or eyes, or... well, or anything like these creatures have.

They aren't supposed to be hiking themselves up onto dry land with the lumbering, awkward movements of seals and the speed of striking snakes.

"I am not supposed to die like this!" Marius turns to face Courfeyrac.

"You had a plan for how you _were_ supposed to die?" Courfeyrac is grinning as he shouts back.

"I didn't know this little island nation _existed_ until three days ago!" Marius doesn't know if he wants to keep his eyes on Courfeyrac or their impending doom.

"That is because you led a woefully sheltered life and are still learning to look beyond the walls your grandfather built in your mind!" Courfeyrac steps forward, putting himself between Marius and the approaching beasts. "But you're not going to die here!"

Given that their protection against the beasts currently consists of Enjolras, who is standing patiently in the maelstrom as though it can't touch him, and a wolf-form Bahorel at Enjolras' left hand, Marius wants to debate that statement.

What will it avail them, though? They came here seeking answers to the riddles Enjolras is trying to solve to finish this quest. If they don't get those answers...

Marius hadn't willingly chosen the quest. He just needed somewhere to go, and Courfeyrac was his friend.

Courfeyrac _is_ his friend, as are Enjolras and Combeferre. Perhaps even Bahorel could be counted as a friend—the werewolf is strange, but forthright and gruffly kind in a way that usually takes Marius by surprise.

_Cosette_ is a friend, and Marius catches sight of her form, still aboard the ship. She has a strange device that she and Combeferre and Enjolras had been pouring over yesterday lifted to her shoulder.

If the beasts turn on the ship—

A hand touches his shoulder, and Marius turns, blinking rain-lashed eyes until he can make out the form of a slender... man? Probably man standing at his side.

"Why did you summon them?" The man sounds more curious than angry or annoyed, which is what Marius would be if someone summoned monsters to his home.

"We just wanted the answer to a riddle." Marius shouts to be heard above the storm, catching Courfeyrac's attention.

Courfeyrac turns, looking as perplexed as Marius feels. The man has a high, soft voice that still somehow penetrates the rising winds, and his clothes are at least a century out of style. Marius doesn't know much about style or foreign lands and even _he_ knows that.

"We seek to find the Eclipsing Band, to end the rule of the Sun King and bring justice to our lands." Courfeyrac is armed, though he hasn't pointed his sword at the newcomer yet.

The words still strike Marius as too dangerous, even in this foreign land where the Sun King is not a figure of awe but rather one of terror.

Marius gestures from Courfeyrac to Enjolras to the distant, still figure of Cosette on the ship with her bizarre stick-weapon. "These are my friends. I don't want them hurt."

The man smiles, reaching out to clap Marius warmly on the shoulder. "Both valiant goals. Let me speak to my siblings and see what arrangements we can come to."

With that the man begins walking _towards_ the beasts, seeming unperturbed by the rain and the wind and the _monsters_ that could destroy him.

"He's barefoot." Courfeyrac shouts out the information and Marius still barely hears it.

The man is indeed barefoot. His feet leave little puddles on the cobblestone street leading down to the docks as he pulls a double-barrel flute out of his pack and begins to play.

Within seconds the sirens have stopped advancing.

Within a minute the wind has died down to a sharp breeze from the furious roar.

The rain continues to fall, though, so at least not _everything_ is madness.

"Come." The stranger calls up to them, summoning them down to stand with Enjolras and Bahorel. "Let's discuss where we go from here."

"See?" Courfeyrac puts an arm around Marius' shoulders. "I told you we weren't going to die today."

Courfeyrac had nothing to do with their survival, but Marius is just glad to still have them all breathing, so he puts his arm around Courfeyrac's waist and walks with him down to their parlay with the creatures of the deep.

XXX

Where they go next is to a bigger ship with a bigger crew.

It takes some convincing. The captain of their original ship, a large, imposing man of few words, hadn't wanted to leave his vessel.

Cosette had.

"They're trying to make the world a better place, father!" Cosette had thrown the words out as though they were a challenge rather than a foolish dream. "And I'm going to help them."

When it became clear that he would either have to lock Cosette in the hold or watch her walk off without him—and that locking her in the hold was unlikely to work, given Bahorel's growling about letting people make their own choices—he had stomped off to arrange for their entire crew to transfer out to a larger ship that can handle the more treacherous voyage they are undertaking.

They've been at sea for three days now. They haven't seen land in over two. It's... disconcerting, looking out over the ocean. Especially at night, with the strange way that star and moonlight catches the edge of waves or ripples in seemingly-flat areas of ocean that may decide to move at any moment.

Marius doesn't know how long he's been watching the water. He should probably be attempting to sleep, but some restless impulse had sent him up to the deck. Since it's Cosette's father rather than Cosette at the helm, he hadn't found someone to talk to.

Turning his head to watch a bit of shimmer move with a ripple of wind, Marius finds himself practically nose-to-nose with the strange man who stopped the sirens.

He screams. He didn't mean to, but he hadn't expected anyone to be there, and the cry rips itself from his mouth. He also attempts to punch the man, another move that isn't premeditated, and one that fails utterly.

A canine head pokes out from behind the stairs heading down into the ship, and then Bahorel's tongue lolls out in what can only be a canine laugh.

The stranger—Jehan, he had introduced himself as—doesn't seem perturbed by Marius' reaction. He simply stares at Marius.

"Hello?" Marius tries the greeting in Espan, the language of the island where they met the man. Jehan speaks Heliodosan, but Marius figures it's more polite to approach him in his own language.

"Hello." Jehan smiles. "Do you prefer this tongue to your own?"

"I—no. I just supposed that _you_ might." Marius feels silly.

"I have so many that I love. This one, yours, Lunessan, so many other—aren't languages great fun?"

"They are." Marius makes the admission cautiously. He has a good head for languages, a skill Courfeyrac has helped him improve upon and profit from over the last few years.

"Do you mind if I speak to you?" Jehan switches to Heliodosan. "Since it seems neither of us is sleeping."

"If you wish. Though I don't..." Marius pauses. "I am not as well-versed as my companions in the matters that are likely of most interest to you."

"I very much doubt that." Jehan's smile is gentle. "I think we've talked the nature of the Band and the nature of our quest in circles for the last few days. What I'd like to discuss is _you_. I have had a chance to get to know your friends, but you seem rather shy."

Marius frowns. He's not sure anyone has ever called him _shy_ before. "I just... haven't as much experience as my friends have."

"But yet you undertake this quest. With them?" Jehan studies him, leaning closer than Marius is comfortable with. "No—not from what you said. _For_ them?"

"I needed somewhere to go. Courfeyrac has always been kind, always taken me in." Marius glances back towards where Cosette's father stands. "And I've made... other friends here."

Jehan sits back with a deep, heartfelt sigh. "Love is such a beautiful thing, no matter the people or the time or the configuration."

Marius just stares at him.

Jehan stares right back. "You do love them, yes?"

"I—" Marius sputters. "I don't know what you mean."

"You came on a voyage that could very well be fatal for one of them, and the other insisted on following you in full knowledge that, as I said, this voyage could be fatal." Jehan links his fingers together. "You sail for the Golden Sea. You sail for the power to change a home that has been stagnant for centuries, the occasional squashed rebellion not withstanding. And you sail bound in strands of love, and I find that a very appropriate way to be."

"Not all of us." Marius gestures towards the stairs down into darkness. "Feuilly and Grantaire, Musichetta and Joly and Bossuet—"

"Feuilly and Enjolras were cut from the same cloth. They were always meant to ride the same waves." Jehan waves a hand as though this proclamation makes perfect sense of what's happening. "Grantaire and Bossuet are Bahorel's friends, Joly was once your countryman, and Musichetta would sooner cut off her arms than see her lovers go into danger without her."

"They're—" Marius tries to remember what he's gleaned of his traveling companions over the last few days. "Oh."

"Had you not noticed?" Jehan's lips quirk into a bemused smile. "They're hardly subtle about it."

"Yes, well..." Marius shakes his head. "I've no idea where you're intending to go with any of this."

"Nowhere, and also to the edge of the world, where the dark bands of freedom lie hidden in the false promise of unchanging security." Jehan reaches out to pat Marius on the shoulder. "But perhaps I've given you enough to ponder tonight. We have many more days of voyaging ahead of us. There will be plenty of time to talk."

Calling softly to Bahorel in Lunessan, Jehan stalks over to the other end of the deck, leaving Marius utterly adrift.

XXX

"We're going to die. Without even reaching the sea." Marius intones the words glumly, not intending anyone else to hear them.

"We're not going to die." Cosette shouts back to him from where she's holding onto a rope that looks very similar to the one she thrust into his hands before telling him not to move.

"See?" Courfeyrac shouts the words from where he's dangling in a bit of netting six feet that feel like a thousand above Marius' head. "Trust the lady who's been here before."

"The waves—" Marius pauses as the ship keels hard to one side, the buffeting waves that have plagued them for hours continuing unabated.

"They're getting better." Cosette grins at him as she finishes tying her rope to some important bit of wood and comes back to help him hold his. "Just another hour, maybe two. We're going to get through this."

Her hands feel like fire against his, and he finds himself at a loss for words.

"I do believe you've broken him." Courfeyrac calls down to Cosette, and is he hanging _upside down_ now?

"Well, that was very foolish of me." Cosette smiles up at Courfeyrac. "Would you mind if I tried to fix him?"

"Depends what you have in mind?" Courfeyrac is at least now standing with his feet firmly anchored on flimsy bits of rope once more.

The ship begins keeling over again, and the three of them hold tight to their posts, Courfeyrac's ropes swaying precariously this way and that.

"Would a kiss be appropriate?" Cosette calls the words up to Courfeyrac as soon as it's clear he's stable.

"Only if you follow it up by one to me!" Courfeyrac's words are breathless with excitement and mirth.

Before Marius knows what's happening, Cosette is pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth. The kiss tastes of salt, and it doesn't last more than a few seconds, but it's still more than Marius has ever done with... well, with _anyone_ , ever.

Then Cosette is gone, adjusting his stance as she scurries up the ropes to press a similar kiss to Courfeyrac's lips. With a laugh and a brief exchange of words that Marius can't hear, Courfeyrac gives his post over to Cosette, sliding down to the deck and coming to wrap his arms around Marius.

Courfeyrac's kiss is firmer than Cosette's, more certain, but they both held warmth and fire and promises that Marius is only daring to imagine.

Courfeyrac comes around to stand in front of Marius, helping to stabilize him. "We won't die. We'll be heroes. And we'll be _together_ , the three of us, if you'll have it."

It slowly begins to dawn on Marius that in the two weeks they've been at sea Courfeyrac and Cosette have clearly had conversations he hasn't been privy to. "I—are you—are _both_ of you propositioning me?"

"More crude than I would have put it, but you've seemed to be enamored of the both of us and unwilling to make a move on either, and the both of us have found each other delightful company too, so I thought—" Courfeyrac speaks more hastily than normal, his eyes actually seeming uncertain for the first time... ever. Or at least since Marius has known him.

"Kiss me again." Marius looks up at Cosette, who is watching them closely. "Both of you. And make sure we survive this. And we shall... well, we shall see."

Courfeyrac kisses him again, and once another wave has tossed the boat about Cosette scrambles down to offer her own shier press of lips.

Marius finds himself very much hoping that she's right about them surviving, because it would be a shame to expand his horizons in this way right now only for them to all die before getting to properly explore the options.

XXX

"What do we do?" Marius turns to look at the gathered crew.

"We go forward." Enjolras makes the pronouncement, turning from the wall of fog that has stayed eerily, unnaturally still for the last day. His eyes rake over the assemblage. "This is where the riddles led us. This is where we need to go. This fog is clearly abnormal, and doesn't seem to want to dissipate. To be safe, perhaps a small group in a longboat first."

"Who?" Combeferre asks the question, his eyes troubled.

"Myself, of course." Enjolras looks over their crew, too. "Who else is willing?"

Feuilly steps forward, and Bahorel, and Jehan, and Marius feels like a coward but he doesn't take that step. Instead he reaches for Courfeyrac and Cosette's hands, keeping them at his side.

"Four of you." Cosette's father studies the small cluster. "A reasonable number. Are you all sure...?"

The four exchange glances and then nod.

When the longboat is lowered, however, Combeferre jumps in as well, a bag of medical supplies at his side. "Joly will stay aboard, and it's better to split those with medical training than have one group without and one with."

No one argues, though Marius thinks he sees Bossuet holding Grantaire back from making a similar gesture. Instead everyone gathers at the rail to watch them row towards the fog.

Closer.

Closer.

The nose of the longboat enters, and then Bahorel's hand, and then _all_ of Bahorel—

And then the _fog_ is moving, sweeping towards them, enveloping all of the longboat and roiling fast towards the ship itself.

Cosette and her father and Eponine are calling out orders, trying to get the anchor lifted and the ship moving, but there isn't time. All they can do is—

Nothing. All he can do is turn around, catch a glimpse of Courfeyrac and Cosette climbing into the rigging, and the fog obscures everything.

Only for a few seconds, though. Only long enough for him to turn in a complete, lost circle, reaching for the rail that should be there but isn't.

Then the fog parts again, and Marius finds himself alone.

He's standing on... he doesn't know _what_ he's standing on. It moves like water, rippling and rolling around him, but it doesn't _look_ like water. It looks like sunlight given form and solidity. It gives under his feet like spongy bog, but he doesn't sink into it, and it doesn't soak into his shoes like the true ocean does.

Marius looks around, but there's no one and nothing save the rippling gold. He takes a tentative step forward, and then another.

Nothing.

"Hello?" His voice seems small in the vast, empty sea that he's walking on.

"Hello?"

The voice comes from behind him, and Marius turns to see his grandfather standing there, cane in hand, clothes as impeccable as always.

It's almost certainly a trick or an illusion. Marius still takes a step back. "G-grandfather?"

The figure tilts its head, a move that is very much _not_ in keeping with his grandfather, and studies him.

"What do you want?" Marius asks the question harshly, his hands clenching into fists.

"What do you want?" The figure repeats back his question.

Marius doesn't lower his guard, but he does relax a little bit. "Is this a test?"

"A test?" The figure's words echo this time, the only thing that has echoed here.

"We seek the Eclipsing Band." Marius tenses again, figuring these words will either set off whatever trap this is or lead him closer to the proper answers.

The figure inclines its head, a long, slow nod, and then says something that Marius doesn't understand.

Except... maybe he does.

"Could you repeat that? More slowly?" Marius asks the question in the Veritan tongue, praying he isn't butchering the pronunciation too badly. He's never actually spoken it before, only translated it on the page, but it's related to Taurisian and—

Yes. The figure repeats the words, at a slower cadence, and they're similar. Not quite right, either a related tongue or a far older one, but if he can just grasp the meaning, perhaps he can answer in a way that will please the test. "One more time, please."

"For the last time." The figure speaks very, very slowly, each word emphasized, a pause between. "Why do you seek the extinguishing of the Sun?"

Marius considers lying. He considers trying to summon up the words that he has heard Courfeyrac and Enjolras and Combeferre and Eponine and Gavroche discussing.

Those are not his words, though, and as terrible as it might make him, those are not his reasons for sailing this sea. "My friends want to make the world a better place. I want to keep them alive to do it."

"Why?" There is an implacable, deep emptiness in the figure's eyes, and Marius wonders how he ever thought it looked like his grandfather. When it stands so tall, a glimmer like starlight in the black depths of its pupils, a glow like moonlight from its skin, it cannot be anything human.

"Because there is injustice in my home. Because children starve on the streets while others feast. Because the sun shines, but it does not dispel the darkness. So I am told, and so I think it is, when I stop and look around me." Marius shivers.

The figure takes a step towards him, and it is impossibly tall. "Why?"

The word echoes in his bones, and Marius has to gasp in a breath in order to answer. The Veritan words come slowly to him, and he mouths each one carefully. "Because I love them. I would rather die than lose them, and this is what they need."

The figure continues to study him for what feels an eternity, and then it gives one more long, slow nod. Its hand rises, pointing over Marius' shoulder.

There, where it had not been before, an island of onyx rock juts out of the roiling sea.

And on the rock, even darker than the stone it sits upon—

Marius runs. The creature hadn't told him there was a time limit to this, but it didn't need to. Jehan has told enough stories over the last month of their travel. He has won the right to grab the Band, but since it isn't in his hand, there is another trial to overcome.

The bats sweep in from nowhere, bringing darkness with them.

_Useless boy_ , their wings whisper as they swoop down to bite him.

_Traitorous liar_ , their inhuman mouths say as blood begins to drip from tiny lacerations on his arms.

_Selfish_ , they screech in impossibly high tones. _Selfish and self-absorbed._

_Fool_ , the darkness repeats over and over. _Fool who will die here._

Except _here_ is not where he's going to die. Not with what they need so close to his hand. Not without knowing that Cosette and Courfeyrac are safe.

Not without finishing this.

He falls, the golden sea smeared with his blood, and crawls up the side of the small island on hands and knees. It isn't dignified, but at this point he doesn't care.

Perhaps he should check the band first. Perhaps he should look for other dangers, other tricks.

All he wants to do is get back to his friends and loves, and so he forces trembling fingers to close around the band and pull it in to his chest.

The shining sea goes dark around him, and Marius prays he hasn't made a terrible mistake.

XXX

The fog is gone.

It's the first thing Marius notices as he blinks his eyes into focus.

The fog is gone, and the longboat is back. Enjolras stands in the prow, a band of darkness clasped tight in both hands. His hair has escaped its queue, and his blue eyes are sharp as he turns to study his companions in the boat and then the ship.

Marius rolls over, finding it more difficult than he expected because his hands are held to his chest.

Because _he's_ holding a black band, too.

He isn't unscathed. He is bleeding from a dozen small cuts.

But he has what they came for.

Him, Enjolras, Feuilly, Jehan, and _Grantaire_ , of all people.

"Five bands." Jehan murmurs the words as he gathers the pits of darkness together into a single bundle. "One each for wrists, ankles, and head, I believe."

"Another quest." Bahorel's words are a rumble, his Lunessan accent stronger than it's ever been.

"The end to this one." Enjolras stands, seemingly unfazed by his encounter, flanked by a tired, bloody Feuilly and a troubled Combeferre. "We always knew the Eclipsing Bands were just a weapon, not the end of the war."

"But the end of the war is near." Courfeyrac's voice is all warm certainty, just as his arms are a warm embrace around Marius. "We take these home, and we can actually enact some changes, finally."

Cosette can't seem to take her eyes off the bands, though her arms, too, are holding Marius upright. "Do you think... were there _just_ the five?"

Jehan nods. "I think there were just the five. Five succeeded, and so the fog left. No one failed, though, if that's what concerns you."

Combeferre's eyebrows rise. "How do you know that?"

"Because none of us are dead." Jehan makes the pronouncement with the same easy candor that he had announced how they have to use the bands. "We've done well. Now, I think, we rest."

Marius has never been happier to hear those words. He leans hard on his companions, allowing them to lead him down into the depths of the ship. The close air, the swinging hammock—none of it can bother him now. He's too tired.

"Thank you." Courfeyrac presses a kiss to Marius' temple. "For doing what you did."

"I didn't do anything the rest of you couldn't have." Marius is certain the words are true.

"Perhaps not, but it's brave all the same." Cosette strokes his hair. "Rest well, Marius. We've at least a month's voyage home, and I intend to enjoy it thoroughly."

Courfeyrac laughs. "All of us do, I think. One impossible feat behind us, one before—I think we've earned a bit of time to enjoy ourselves between."

Marius doesn't know about impossible feats. He still has only the vaguest inkling of the complexities and vagaries of politics and what will come when they get home.

What he does know is that he loves these people, as well as the rest of those scattered throughout the ship, and he hopes that will continue to be enough to see them through the coming storms.


End file.
